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Shoot!

“Uncomfortable?” Van drawls in a dark, amused ... knowing tone.

My thighs squirm, and I have to fight the urge to reach under and unglue the wedgie.

“I’m okay,” I lie.

Both men are watching me with two different, yet painfully similar expressions.

“Did we hurt you last night?” Lachlan asks, voice thick with all the things I can see him fighting behind his eyes.

I shake my head. “A little sore, but I’m okay.” I bunch my fingers into my purse. “Thank you.”

I can tell there’s a lot he wants to say but keeps stopping himself. Probably a good thing. I don’t even know if I want to talk about what we did.

He relents. His hand goes to the wheel without another word.

We start down my street and I’m relieved no one’s outside who could have seen us. Still, I don’t relax until Lachlan makes the first turn.

“Oh, before I forget.”

Lachlan slows the truck and reaches across my lap to pop open the glovebox. He pulls an envelope from inside and offers it to me.

It’s thin and light. Barely a feather in my fingers, and blank when I flip it over.

“What’s this?”

He pulls the truck back onto the road. “A check to cover Bron’s car and the trip to Cuba.”

My breath catches even as my head pivots up to his. “What? How did you...? No.” I try to shove it back at him. “I don’t want your money, Mr. Shaw.”

One big, callused palm sets over top of mine and gently nudges my hand back into my lap without ever taking his eyes off the road.

“It’s Lachlan, and it’s not mine. I pulled it from Bron’s inheritance. I’m the trustee on the account. He owes you more than that, but I pulled the biggest allowable amount without triggering an audit.”

I stare at the bomb he’s dropped into my lap and feel nothing but panic.

I clear my throat, attempting to act like an adult when I feel about ten. “I really appreciate this, but Bron will be furious if he finds out you took this out of his account.”

“That’s my problem.” He takes a careful turn down Chestnut Avenue. “As trustee, I’m allowed to utilize the funds to pay for living expenses. He borrowed money from you for an expense. Judging from the substantial number of loans he’s asked of you in the last two years, this is just the tip of what he actually owes you, Everly.” He darts me a side glance that is either annoyance or disappointment. “I did not raise a child who doesn’t pay his debts.”

Why do I feel shame for my part in this? I know I haven’t done anything wrong but holding that money — money I legitimately did not think I would ever see again — I can’t help the prickle of embarrassment skittering up the back of my neck.

“I just know he’s not going to be happy,” I reply, still not sure what I’m supposed to do with the envelope because I know Bron is going to lose his mind when he finds out I took money from him.

My money, granted. Bron was supposed to pay me back a year ago, but bringing the topic up only had him throwing a full temper tantrum of massive proportion that just wasn’t worth the headache.

“I’ll deal with him,” Lachlan says, interrupting my thoughts. “I’ll make sure he returns everything he borrowed.”

I grimace to the very core of my soul.

Do I want that money back? Absolutely, but I also know this will be a shit storm once it reaches Bron. And definitely ruins my plans.

I try to think quickly, to puzzle together the destruction before it really falls apart in my hands.

“I know I have no right to ask after everything you did for me last night, but can you keep this quiet for a few days?”

I can feel Van’s eyes burning into the side of my face. I can see him studying me from the corner of my eyes, but I keep my attention fixed on the man casting me wary side-eyes.